


Night Mares and Bubbles

by AmbidextrousMechanic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Homestuck - Freeform, M/M, Multi, PTSD, dave strider - Freeform, dream bubbles? or maybe just night mares, godtier dave, poor Dave, pre-game dave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 10:15:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20864546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbidextrousMechanic/pseuds/AmbidextrousMechanic
Summary: Hot and Hazy was a feeling that you’ll never forget. You’re eleven, your too pale, too thin, too helpless. You hear him screaming, sobbing- and you realize its you, you realize youre him.





	Night Mares and Bubbles

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. so this is just something ive been thinking about writing for a while. just a look into the mind of dave. its not really good but just something i wanted to do so i hope you enjoy. (( maybe ill edit it late definitely a one take wonder))

Hot and Hazy was a feeling that you’ll never forget. You’re vision is dark, but the humidity hits you like a ton of fucking bricks. You’ve been here before, way too many times. You’re stomach drops, the way it does when you feel like you’re falling, because you are. You’re violently pushed into this wall of heat and it makes your eyes shoot open and has you gasping for air, but the mix of heat and moisture in the air is proving the menial task difficult. Not that it matters, because as soon as you catch your breath you’re losing it again as you hit what feels like pavement. An action you know only takes place within a matter of seconds but you can feel it happening at an agonizing pace. As you hit the ground, something happens. You’re not you anymore. Not the you that closed your eyes just moments ago because you couldn’t fight the exhaustion anymore. Not the you that fell asleep in the clinically chilly room you called yours in the lab. You’re eleven, your too pale, too thin, too helpless. You’re watching the scene unfold, like an out of body experience - but you can feel everything that’s happening to him. 

Perspectives skewed, switching back and forth as you watch as his shoulders scrape across the ground, and then you’re him again, and feel the burning pain, eyes shut tight again, teeth clenched, the sound of metal skittering across the rooftop, ringing through your skull mixing with the beat of your pounding heart. You feel so small. The cry that escapes your throat is too high. You’re brain is catching up, adjusting to the situation and all you can think is how this can’t be happening, how can this be happening? No-no no no. He’s, no - you, are struggling to properly breathe. You’re struggling to shuffle up into a sitting position, a hand going to a sudden sharp pain you feel in your shoulder- you’re hand is wet, your shirt is stained. Fuck your cheeks are wet too - are you crying? Then in a moment you’re not him- you’re you. You’re watching as he scrambles backwards, he’s trying to get away, he’s looking right at you and his voice rings in your ears, “Please. Stop. Im done, you win. I’m tapping out- im fucking done-” and he doesnt realize just how close he is to the edge. 

You remember this happening, another day, another time, another moment. You remember a tight hand fisted in your shirt when you almost ate it off the side of the fucking buildling. Before you can think you’re mov- you’re, you’re not moving. You can’t move. So instead you’re struggling, trying to break the invisible binds, that are holding you in place, keeping you from calling out to him. Something in the air changes, and a low voice rattles your entire body. 

“Too late now, kid” 

And you feel the release of whatever was holding you back, but you still can’t move because you’re stomach is too busy twisting inside your abdomen,and you watch as he disappears off the edge of the building. You hear him screaming, sobbing- and you realize its you. You’re screaming, you’re sobbing - and you’re him. You can’t save yourself, can’t seem to help yourself. You’re falling, you’re powers aren’t working, you’re panicking and before you hit the ground you realize you aren’t even him anymore, you’re you. You’re fifteen, you’ve filled out, you’re cape is threatening to wrap around your head and suffocate you while you fall thirteen stories down. 

Before you hit the ground you await the sickening crunch, you hold your breath, you’re fucking crying. There’s a rush off too hot to hard, but too quickly it’s icy, its cold, it chills you straight to your bones. The heat and moisture of the air is replaced with something too cold, too stale. It’s such an intense feeling, that you can’t do anything but lay still when your head makes a hard thud against the cold metal floor. You’re eyes are shut tight, you’re struggling to catch your breath, you can hear the echo of your screams reverberating off of the walls.

It takes too long to compose yourself, too long to realize it was just a dream. Too long to realize you fell off the bed and that you’re lying on the floor staring at the ceiling. Too long to realize your safe. The experience sticks in your mind, and you can’t find it in yourself to drift back to sleep.


End file.
